


Through the Window

by little_whittles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_whittles/pseuds/little_whittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hands are on the window before he catches the scent - Stiles is home already, in his room.</p>
<p>And Derek smells sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Window

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble I wrote. First finished Teen Wolf fic.

Derek likes to be in Stiles’ room before Stiles gets home. It gives him an edge, he thinks. Stiles always claims it’s “creepy,” but Derek prefers to call it “mysterious.”

His hands are on the window before he catches the scent - Stiles is home already, in his room.

And Derek smells sex.

It’s overwhelming and he almost stumbles, would have if he wasn’t a werewolf. He feels like he can’t breathe properly anymore. Who would Stiles be having sex with?

Derek inches closer, hiding in the shadows, cloaked by the almost pitch black evening. Stiles is alone; he’s at his desk, his profile lit by the computer screen, the rest of the room dark.

He’s watching porn. Derek smirks; of course it’s just porn, and Stiles is alone, and... and Stiles, Derek realizes, has his cock in his fist and is tugging himself quickly.

Derek swallows the lump in his throat and knows he should leave, practically turns to go, and then he just... doesn’t. He crouches further into the darkness, braces one hand gently against the glass, and leans in.

Derek can hear little gasps, and a moan that Stiles stifles because his dad is home. But Derek can hear it, and it cuts right into him. He feels so animalistic that he runs his tongue over his teeth to make sure he hasn’t changed a little. He hasn’t lost control over that in a long time, he’s got it mastered, it would be embarrassing if now, watching Stiles...

Stiles bucks his hips, legs straining. He’s fully dressed, flannel pushed back off his stomach and jeans just shoved down his thighs a few inches. He reaches across his desk and rips a handful of Kleenex out of the box and covers the head of his cock.

Derek’s eyes are dry because he’s forgotten to blink, and so is his mouth because his jaw is hanging open. Stiles grunts and stills, pressed up into his own hands.

He’s coming, Derek can tell. He knows what that would look like, and he can smell it. His dick is hard in his jeans and he hates this, doesn’t know why this is getting to him. He and Stiles DON’T get along, he has no sexual feelings toward Stiles. Maybe it’s just the overwhelming arousal. It’s been a long time for Derek, since Kate.

Stiles tosses the tissue wad into the trash and shimmies back into his pants. He turns from his computer and freezes. 

Derek catches the red glow of his eyes in his own reflection and moves back, jumps from the roof, and is hidden in his Camero in seconds. He drives away faster than he should, tires squealing.

Once Stiles feels like his legs can hold him - because he’s shaking all over because Derek FUCKING Hale just saw him beating off, god - he goes to the window. He can see the small smudges from Derek’s fingertips and presses his hand there for a second, on the opposite side of the glass.

He feels numb and like he might actually die from embarrassment. He doesn’t know why Derek didn’t stick around to further humiliate him, seems like just the sort of thing he’d enjoy. He takes a deep breath, walks to the desk to shut down his laptop, and pretends he can actually sleep. But he doesn’t.


End file.
